Page 30 of Only Fate

“Custody of two children is an enormous responsibility, Rhett.”

“That’s what nannies are for.”

His smugness makes me cringe.

“I’ll draw up custody papers, then.” I wait for him to stop me and roll my eyes when he does.

“Why don’t we see how the home tour goes first?”

Rhett doesn’t want custody. He wants to be an ass.

Unsurprisingly, Brielle’s parents’ home is far from what Rhettdescribed. From his depiction, you’d think it was something you’d see in a horror movie.

Sure, it’s not an extravagant home, but unless it’s like an episode ofHoardersinside, I want to kick Rhett’s ass for wasting my time.

Better yet, maybe not.

I’ll just bill the asshole double for every minute I’m here.

I duck out of my car and look around at the white picket fence, garden fairies, and freshly trimmed yard. Essie and Brielle are standing on the porch.

Everyone’s attention moves to Rhett as he pulls up to the curb in his yellow Jaguar.

A Jaguar that costs as much as his annual salary—a number I recently discovered when reviewing their divorce documents. The man is living well beyond his means.

The home’s front door swings open, and an older woman steps onto the porch. She hugs Essie, and when she turns her head to peer at Rhett, her eyes tighten.

Rhett tosses his keys in the air as he joins me. “Here we go. Her mom is a basket case, FYI.”

I silently nod and follow as he struts toward the porch.

The woman—my guess is Brielle’s mother—shuffles to the corner of the porch to rest her elbows on the wood railing. She flips Rhett the bird, and he shakes his head while murmuring words under his breath that I can’t make out.

Rhett and I walk in first while Brielle and Essie follow. The air smells like freshly baked bread, and the interior resembles what you’d find in a small-town bed-and-breakfast.

Rhett glances at me, noticing my lack of concern, and squishes his nose. “The children, they share a room.” He attempts to shove an ounce of disgust into his voice. “They have their own rooms at my home.”

“Yes, but they unfortunately have an asshole father there,” Brielle argues behind me.

During the tour, Rhett shakes his head and makes snarkycomments about random shit. There’s not one problem I can write in a report to convince a judge to remove the children from this home.

“That concludes the tour,” Brielle says, slapping her arms to her sides when we return to the front porch. “Now, go, Rhett, and never come back.”

Rhett squares up his skinny shoulders. “Before I go, we need to discuss the birthday party. You have your party here, and I’ll have mine at the house.”

Brielle winces. “I worked my ass off for that party with the planner.”

“Sure, but you no longer live there,” Rhett argues. “Don’t worry. I’ll ask my mother to send you photos.”

Essie and I retreat inches from our clients, allowing them space to hash this out but remain within earshot to hear the conversation.

Brielle moves closer to Rhett and stands on her tiptoes so they’re eye level. “If you don’t want me at the partyI planned, then the children won’t be there either.”

“That’s bullshit,” Rhett screams. “I forked out a lot of money for that party.”

“Either I’m in attendance or none of us are.”

Rhett cradles the back of his balding head before throwing it back. “Fine, whatever.” His gaze locks on me. “My attorney will also be there. Saturday afternoon. Two o’clock. My house.”

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